


Remember Me

by parareve



Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bittersweet/Happy Ending, Diplomacy, Drabble, General Fai has the hots for General Kurogane, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Nihon Country, Romantic Fluff, The political talk gets somewhat forgotten, Two shameless dorks can't keep their eyes off each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-15 06:42:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4596756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parareve/pseuds/parareve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Falling head-over-heels for the sharp-eyed commander of Nihon's capital was the last thing on General Fai's mind when he started this godawful voyage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remember Me

_"Once you have traveled, the voyage never ends, but is played out over and over again in the quietest chambers."_

_-Pat Conroy_

* * *

 

A five-day journey had sounded simple enough.

In his country, diplomatic endeavors were acknowledged with all respect—with utmost appraisal, they were titled the Voyages of Gentlemen, regarded as pinnacles of societal expansion and enlightenment.

Enlightened was the last thing Fai Fluorite was feeling as he recounted the eight hellish days he and his men had gone through.

Nihon was a distant country—that much his king had made clear. But the hidden message inside that definition was far less brief and far more nauseating; the journey was a compilation of vicious seas, torrential downpours, barely-avoided hurricanes, and five painstaking hours of trekking through mountains so thick with fog one could only squint to see the tip of their boots.

It was by sheer luck alone (rather, the blessed fortune of having two extra mages on board) that they scraped past death.

His men were famished, dehydrated, chilled to the bone from cold sweat and dew-soaked uniforms, and drenched from head to foot in mud. Fai could only pray that it was worth it.

It had taken him mere seconds to assess that yes (oh yes) it was.

His team had stumbled—quite literally—into their destination, a palace as massive and dark as the forest that surrounded it. They had been nearly ambushed, and rightfully so, he grudgingly had to admit—if a ragtag band of armed foreigners had clambered onto the steps of Luval Castle, he would have easily arched one brow and sent them running.

It was no surprise to him, then, that they had been welcomed with the shrill threat of silver-tipped arrows at their feet.

Speaking fluidly in what amount of formal Nihongo he understood, he had explained their situation with a calm smile, trying to keep the bite out of his tone (because over a week in hell just to _get_ here had better be worth it, dammit); but before he could even let his request for lodging pipe from his lips, the massive, golden-plated gates were swung open with a ghostly creak, and from the lines of darkly-clad watchmen _he_ emerged.

It was obvious he was a commander, no different than himself—of what stature, Fai wasn’t sure, but he could _see_ it in those eyes, ruddy irises frighteningly sharp. The man’s clothes were simple, nothing compared to the mud-soaked tokens of regality flashing with profligacy on the shoulders of their own uniforms, but his stance alone spoke of his position.

Sharp-jawed, dark-haired, bronzed, and towering, the ~~god of beauty~~ _commander_ looked nothing short of deadly. Fai felt the breath stutter in his chest.

 _(Oh_ yes.)

Two hours later, he was starting to feel quite content with a fire pit crackling cozily before him and several glasses of a warm rice wine settling in his stomach. There was no doubt that, between the elaborately-painted silk screens of the castle and the equally elaborate wear of the nobility that strolled casually between its walls, he and his men stuck out like a sore thumb. They had hardly made a good impression, looking more like a colony of drowned rats than an esteemed group of voyagers, but they had been welcomed nonetheless, and Fai was slowly starting to feel the knot of unease loosen in his stomach.

It had also helped that _he_ had been with them ever since.

Polite introductions (Fai had presented his name with only a faint twinge of airiness) had gradually dissolved into political talk, but he had only been half-focused on the conversation as pale eyes swept endlessly across the broad frame (strong features shadowed by the firelight, one elbow propped on the raised knee below it, the silver-scaled hilt of his katana gleaming from the hip where it was strung) that sat on the cushions beside him.

Gods _alive_ , he had never seen a man so beautiful.

Fai spent the next three days with his lower lip caught between his teeth and heat stirring in his belly, trying his best to steal glimpses of the general ( _Kurogane_ , he had introduced himself as, the syllables flowing out of a voice that rumbled like storm clouds on the horizon) as he was led around the neighboring villages of Nihon’s capital.

Glimpses were all he received during that time (bellowing orders with measured ferocity; training in the nearby gardens, the line of his back glowing with a golden sheen against the midday sun; arms pulled into a graceful dance of muscle and power, the dragon-headed sword cutting with frightening speed through the air); and though he tried his best to _focus, you twat_ on the diplomatic matter at hand, more times than he could count, his eyes strayed away, aching to catch sight of those auburn eyes again.

It wasn’t until the night before his team’s departure that he was confronted about it.

He had been repacking his small set of belongings when the screened door to his quarters was pulled open. He hadn’t thought anything of it, originally, assuming it to be one of the servants who frequently brought announcements to his attention, or one of his men passing on new information. He hadn’t expected it to be the general.

Kurogane had stepped into the room quietly, hardly making a noise but for the husky murmur that left his lips.

“You’ve been watching me.”

Fai was so startled he dropped the rucksack he had been repacking, and (kill me now that _voice_ ), flustered, he turned around quickly.

“Oh, I…well.” _Watching you_. “Uhm.” Put into words, the action didn’t sound so romantic after all.

“I noticed,” Kurogane continued, and stepped closer, the dark navy robes over him swishing with the movement. There was almost a hint of humor in the way he spoke the words (soft and frayed on the edges, like crumpled paper, and _was he smirking?_ ), and the realization put Fai at a loss of words. So he wasn’t just an emotionless brick wall of male perfection. ( _Gods above take me now_.)

Fai’s eyes darted from the crimson eyes resting lazy and heated on his own to the thin lips quirked into the slightest smirk, and instantly found his throat much too dry.

“Yes, well,” he stammered, swallowing quickly, “I am terribly sorry if I have offended you, you see, I—”

“I’ve been watching you, too.”

The statement was blunt and unabashed, so much so that Fai found himself blinking stupidly. Did neither of them have no shame? But, gradually, the gaze locked with his shifted from easy and conversational to something far more yearning, pinning Fai in place with the sheer warmth of desire that grew into them.

His pulse drummed in his chest as Kurogane stepped closer, tilting his head just enough for the heat of his breath to ghost across a pale cheek, and Fai felt his breath catch in his throat.

“I want you to remember me,” the general murmured, and Fai’s knees went weak.

Slowly, tanned lips drew closer, until they brushed against Fai’s own; Kurogane drew back after a moment, and Fai shuddered with the exhale that swept out of his mouth before he tilted his head up and joined their lips again, and again, and ( _gods_ yes) as Kurogane dipped his head down against the curve of a flushed cheek, pressing into the line of his throat, Fai couldn’t help but moan softly.

It escalated into a jumbled mess of damp skin and burning lungs (pale hair caught between callused fingers, nails biting into the strewn blankets beneath him, shaky gasps muffled into the cushions), eventually leaving him breathless and languid and satiated beneath the tender press of kisses on his shoulder.

He and his men woke early the next morning, packed in full preparation for another taxing journey home. With them, they carried trunks of Nihongo goods, lavish raw silks and political documentations, as well as information of their discoveries and diplomatic agreements. But alongside them, Fai carried two smaller items—a woolen cloak and a frayed red ribbon.

Kurogane had rolled the cloak neatly into a bundle and slipped it into Fai’s arms, and with a gentle touch, rough fingertips had tied back the loose ends of Fai’s hair.

“Don’t forget,” he whispered against the blond’s temple, and Fai closed his eyes.

“I won’t.”

The journey home was just as—if not more—disastrous, but Fai led his men through the thick of it with calm eyes and resolute commands. The residents of Luval Castle, anxious to hear of their discoveries, welcomed the weary travelers back with open arms; and in the clamor of the crowds, Fai twisted the frayed ends of the red ribbon around his finger and smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this months ago and almost forgot about it, but I found the file as I was transferring documents from my old computer. I wasn't originally planning on posting this, but lo and behold, here we are. The AU is basically if FWR hadn't enacted his evil scheme and everyone had grown up happily in their respective kingdoms, meeting each other later on for diplomatic reasons. Reading back on this, I liked the idea so much that I might make it a series, but I haven't decided yet. Thanks for reading!


End file.
